Most youth baseball teams, minus a few exceptions, are coached by a dad or group of dads who have kids on the team. As a result, Daddy Ball is a real concern among parents.

And it’s understandable. If a coach is going to give preferential treatment to his own kid, that could hurt your own son’s opportunities and development. And if this same treatment also applies to the assistant coaches, you could be in for a long season.

Ideally, the coaches will be neutral. But the truth is that there is another side of the coin to Daddy Ball that is equally as bad for the team.

Coaches are understandably self-conscious about the potential perception of Daddy Ball. They don’t want parents to think that they’re treating their own son favorably or giving them opportunities that weren’t deserved.

The result is often an overreaction. Instead of being neutral, the coaches are hardest on their own kids.

This is just as common as — if not more common than — Daddy Ball. And coaches will openly admit that they do it. The thought is that being tougher on their own kids is preferred by parents over Daddy Ball.

But the reality is that this is just as bad. It may even be worse.

I have a goal as a coach that if you show up to one of our games, you will not be able to spot my own kid. If he’s playing shortstop, pitching in the big game, or getting the juicy hitting opportunities, it’s because he’s earned it. He doesn’t get away with having a bad attitude. I don’t treat him differently — including treating him more harshly than others.

Granted, it’s always easier said than done. It’s not easy to separate fatherhood from coaching. We have high expectations for our own kids. But when we’re on the field, my son calls me “Coach,” not “Dad.”

If you’re tougher on your own kid, think about the message that it sends…

It’s Confusing to Other Players

When a typical kid makes an error or strikes out, the coach remains positive. He tries to keep the player’s spirits up. Doesn’t want to hurt his confidence.

When his own son has those same negative results, the coach — now “Dad” — freaks out. He yells. He makes personal attacks. He punishes the player. He makes him run. He pulls him from the game. He embarrasses him.

He treats him in ways he would never treat another player.

These may sound like extreme scenarios, but they all happen. Every day.

We’ll get to how this impacts the coach’s kid in a minute. But think about how it impacts the other players.

They’re suddenly petrified. If they strike out next time, is this how Coach is going to act? Might the coach embarrass him in front of his teammates, too? He sees the tears in the eyes of the coach’s kid. Is he next?

It also creates confusion regarding rules and expectations. What is allowed? What is not okay? What actions will be punished?

By not treating all players equally — even if it means being harder on the coach’s son — it sends confusing messages about what is allowed, what isn’t, and what the punishment will be.

It Sets Expectations for Behavior

The coach who treats his own son more harshly is almost always driven by emotion. Yelling, throwing things, hurling personal insults at his own son that he wouldn’t use with other kids.

The coach doesn’t realize it, but he’s modeling proper behavior. While fear is one potential reaction, these kids may also start reacting emotionally to their own failures.

Even worse, they may start reacting emotionally and selfishly when their teammates fail. These reactions are often the foundation of a toxic environment.

Your Kid is Going to Burn Out

Think about it. What if another coach treated your own son this way. Would you stand for it?

Some coaches may say “yes.” But since these coaches are treating other players differently, I’d have to think they aren’t being honest with themselves. They’d pull their kid out of the dugout in a heartbeat.

Why? Because emotional and verbal abuse often leads to burnout. In an attempt to show that you’re not giving your son preferential treatment, you’re burning him out and making him hate baseball.

He’s going to quit. And if he doesn’t quit, he’s going to check out mentally.

It’s Not What Parents Want

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve brought up the topic of Daddy Ball around other coaches or spouses of the coaches and immediately hear back that they’re tougher on their own kid. That’s no defense. That’s nothing to be proud of.

And the truth is that parents of other kids on your team don’t want that either. You may think that they appreciate it, but they don’t.

Parents want consistency. They want fairness. They want clear rules and expectations that apply to everyone.

Most parents are understanding that the dad/coach dynamic is a difficult one. They know that you will slip up. You’re human.

But they want to see an attempt to treat everyone on the team fairly, including your own son.

How Do You Do It?

Even if you’re a coach who looks in the mirror and realizes that you may be treating your own son unfairly, the question ultimately becomes how you fix it. It’s not easy.

The main thing is to simply have the goal. “If someone shows up to watch our game today, they will not know which player is my son. I won’t give my son preferential treatment. I won’t treat him more harshly.” My wife is sick of hearing me make that type of statement, but it’s good to constantly remind yourself.

Something that truly does help is to make sure that you and your son are on the same page. When you step into the dugout, you are “Coach” and not “Dad.” You will need to work just as hard as everyone else. You have to earn your opportunities. You won’t be given anything.

Take it a step further. I also help my son understand how difficult my job as the coach is. I let him know how he can help me. Set a good example. Have the best attitude. Work harder than everyone else. Make it so no one can ever doubt why you get the opportunities that you have.

Something to try: Consider your baseball cap your “Coach Cap.” When you step into the dugout, put on the cap. When you step out of the dugout after the game, take it off. You’re now Dad again.

Your Turn

I’m not perfect. You may have been able to accuse me of treating my son differently at one time or another. But I do try hard to be consistent. It is a priority of mine to treat everyone fairly and separate my job as a coach from my job as a parent.

What examples have you seen of coaches treating their own son more harshly? Or what do you try to do as a coach whose son is on your team?

I personally haven’t had serious situations with this as a parent or a coach, as it is something that can be avoided. But it is a sensitive issue and something to consider when finding the right team for your child.

So, what is Daddy Ball? Why does it exist? What can both parents and coaches do to avoid it?

What is Daddy Ball?

Daddy Ball is the common phenomenon of when the coach — or the perception of when the coach — favors his kid over others at the detriment of the team. His kid always needs to be the star. His kid pitches the big game when there are better options. His kid plays when other better players sit.

The emphasis here is on “detriment to the team.” If the coach’s kid is simply the team’s best player, then so be it.

Also note that perception is also reality here. Daddy Ball exists if parents think it does — it’s that simple. It’s not always fair, but it’s something a coach needs to address.

Daddy Ball — the way it’s perceived and defined — also extends to the assistant coaches. Parents can perceive that not only is the coach giving preferential treatment to his kid but to the other assistants’ kids. Again, this is based on the premise that these coaches’ kids are inferior players to other options.

The Source of Daddy Ball

Parents hate and try to avoid Daddy Ball, and I completely understand. Particularly if it’s a blatant case where the coach’s kid is clearly inferior to other options. But let me tell you — as a coach — how this can easily happen.

The coach knows his kid. He knows his kid better than any other kid. As a result, he knows — or thinks he knows — how well his kid can handle a situation better than he knows how another kid will handle it.

Of course there is also potential for bias here. It’s not necessarily wrong, but a coach trusts his own kid. He is less likely to trust another kid. So if the two are close in talent, it’s plausible why a coach would choose his own kid.

Daddy Ball, as defined, can extend to the assistant coaches. Again, there are blatant and more subtle examples of Daddy Ball in this case. But an assistant is the person who the head coach leans on for advice and strategy discussion. Like the head coach, an assistant will be biased to his own kid. That can naturally lead to more playing time for that assistant’s kid.

This all comes down to control. The coach is in a position of control and therefore determines the fate of all of the players on the team. The parents have no control, and this is an uncomfortable and potentially explosive situation when the lack of control results in unfair treatment — real or perceived.

A Coach’s Perspective: The Pitfalls of Daddy Ball

As a dad and a coach of my son, I’m sensitive to all of this. I’m conscious of the potential for Daddy Ball, and I actively make sure that this is not an issue. It’s important that the coach is aware of this and makes every attempt to make decisions as the coach and not the dad.

I can tell you first hand that it can go both ways. As a coach who is consciously aware of the potential for Daddy Ball, I may have limited my son’s opportunities in the past to prove a point. A coach can overreact to Daddy Ball, thereby harming the development of their own child.

I’m also my son’s biggest critic. I see flaws in his game that others may not see. I see him every day, in and out of practice and game situations. And on the flip side, the flaws of other players may not be as noticeable to me.

As a coach, there are a couple of ways to avoid this…

First, make sure that your child is not one of the weaker players on the team. I actually prefer that my son is neither the best nor the worst, but for the purpose of the Daddy Ball discussion it’s certainly bad if he falls on the weaker side.

This is a big issue, not only for playing time but assembling the team in the first place. If the coach’s kid is one of the weaker players, what happens when players with superior ability try out? The coach will obviously not cut his own kid.

Second, have an open dialog with assistant coaches and parents about the performance of the individual players. Have stats publicly available. Be clear about how you determine playing time (hopefully it’s mostly stats based). While not everyone will agree about which players are best — EVERY parent has a bias — this can help limit issues.

As a coach, I am very stats focused. I design lineups to favor the kids who get on base and hit the most. I pitch the kids who throw strikes and limit runs. I place kids in the field based on the ability to make plays and limit errors.

If a coach uses stats as the guide, the potential for blatant favoritism — actual or perceived — is limited.

While stats can be misleading — particularly in small sample sizes — it helps to have them as a defense. Because if there’s a perception that your child is unfairly getting additional time and you don’t have the stats to back it up, you’re in trouble.

Avoid Daddy Ball: Know the History

Before you join a team, get a sense of the ability level of the coach’s kid. If he’s the best player on the team, you have very little to worry about. Any favoritism is at least partially warranted. The concern, though not always deserved, should be if that kid is one of the lesser players.

In that case, get a sense of your coach’s philosophy regarding playing time. See if you can find history regarding how much kids played and at what level in the past. See if you can spot a pattern.

Avoid Daddy Ball: Unicorn Coach

There is one pretty simple way to avoid Daddy Ball, but it doesn’t happen often: Play for a coach who doesn’t have a kid on the team.

In some cases, this could mean that it’s an academy team where the coach is paid. In others, it’s simply a coach who loves coaching — even though they don’t have a kid to coach.

This can be a great situation, if for nothing else but perception alone.

Avoid Daddy Ball: Coach!

Understand that I do sympathize for both sides here. As a coach, I understand how Daddy Ball can happen. As a parent, I want my kid to get the opportunities he deserves.

But we’re all human. If you think you aren’t biased for your own kid, you’re a liar. And in some cases, the perception of Daddy Ball is built on nothing more than the bias of parents who aren’t coaching.

The best way to avoid Daddy Ball is to coach. If your response is, “I don’t have time for that!” then it’s a factor — hopefully small — that you can expect to deal with.

Your Turn

Have you experienced Daddy Ball, either as a coach or parent? How do you feel about it?